Being Human
by Jet Set Yoyo
Summary: "It's nice to not have to kill anything." Those words meant more to Prompto than the others could have ever known. Heavy spoilers. Prompto origins story. MT's were created with Daemon essence but Verstael knew it was not enough to fell the Lucians. So he went back to the drawing board. Soon all over Niflheim it was decreed that all firstborns would be drafted into the Magitek army.
1. Chapter 1

Being Human

By Jet Set Yoyo

Disclaimer: FYI I don't own shit. ;3

Summary: "It's nice to not have to kill anything." Those words meant more to Prompto than the others could have ever known. Heavy spoilers.

MT's were created using the essence of Daemons; robots imbued with the bloody-thirsty energy of the damned but with all the predictability of a controllable object. It was evident that this alone was not enough to bring Niflheim to victory against the Lucians and so Verstael went back to the drawing board. A new idea arises and it is soon put into effect that all firstborn children from every family would be drafted into the Magitek army. This was an understatement to say the least but neither Verstael nor Iedolas wanted to alarm the masses lest they grow a desire to revolt. Hundreds of children were rounded up all varying ages for experimentation.

The title may likely be temporary. I'm usually good at coming up with them but today I seem to be having a difficult time.

* * *

 _"As you all know the threat of the Lucians grows ever stronger and our robotic forces are not enough to withstand their power. It is with a heavy heart I, Iedolas Aldercapt, shall now decree that all families shall enlist their firstborn child to the Magitek army where they shall be raised and trained up to fight against these formidable monster who threaten our very way of life," a booming voice rang out over every speaker, television, and radio throughout Niflheim tearing into the relative peace of the morning like a hot knife. People huddled around their devices in silence; some shocked, others in tears at the thought of their little ones being trained for war. Many hoped it would never come to this, that the robotic Magiteks would be enough to cease this war._

* * *

 **The Night Before**

* * *

"Hey Mama, have you ever ridden a chocobo? How come we don't see any? Is there a chocobo farm in the city?"

A thin framed blond pressed his freckled nose to the kitchen window, vivid blue eyes squinting to see through the smog of the city at the night life below their tiny third story home. He could barely see over the windowsill, fairly short even for a four year old. A slightly heavy set woman standing over the sink tended to the dishes left from supper. She let out a tired sigh, exhaustion evident upon her face but smiled warmly nonetheless at the question.

"No love, there aren't any chocobos left in Niflheim, the Lucians stole them and killed all the rest," she told the boy, frowning lightly for a fleeting moment. So not to upset her son she changed the subject quickly. "Prompto, get away from the window now. Go brush your teeth it's time to settle down for the night. I'll read you a chocobo story if you hurry."

"Woohoo! Chocobos!" Prompto squealed in delight, pushing off from the window and darting out of the kitchen. His sing-song voice chanting, 'choc-chocobo, choco, chocobos' all through the house as he went. It would have laughter worthy had she not been so exhausted. It was all she could do just to smile.

Keeping the rambunctious boy busy during the day, working, cleaning, and cooking were no easy feat as a single mother. Prompto's father was not present; likely uncaring about the child's well-being much less her own. He had told her he wanted a child. Not once after did he visit, even as she carried the boy in her womb for nine months the man never returned but that was a story for another day.

Aside from the sing-song voice across the house now faint behind the closed bathroom door, the soft clanking of dishes and the rush of the water the relative silence gave the woman a moment's reprieve. Soon after putting Prompto to bed she would head off to work and not be back until morning where it was likely she would barely get a few hours of rest before he would wake again. She finished the dishes, setting the last of them onto the rack to dry and drying her hands off when young Prompto emerged from the bathroom, dressed haphazardly in a mismatched pajama set.

"Ready Mama!" He chirped, skipping down the tiny hallway towards the bedroom he shared with her. His little bed sat in the corner of the equally tiny room, a rainfall of well worn toys strewn about the floor. Prompto dove into the bed, scurrying under the covers and fidgeted impatiently until she followed him retrieving his favorite book as she sat down. Despite his excitement he barely made it through half of the story before he was snoring lightly, out for the night. His mother smiled again, stopping for a moment to gaze down at him. She peered over every inch of his face just as she did every night when he was still enough for her to really look at him. His angelic face looked so peaceful as he slept; light freckles dotted his chubby cheeks and button nose. His blond lashes caught the dim light just right and appeared brighter than they really were. Kissing him gently, she stood and hurried to get ready for work.

"I love you Prompto."

The next morning just as her shift ended and the sun was barely peeking over the horizon shining in dust speckled rays through the smoggy city air was when the announcement rang out. Plenty of people were already beginning their morning; a few not unlike herself were just ending their day. She was just wrapping herself in her coat, moments away from stepping out the door when she stopped to listen. Seconds felt like hours as her blood froze. The morning noises turned to ringing in her ears and for a minute she heard nothing, felt nothing. Then the wave of dread and fear washed over her like a tsunami and she bolted, desperate to get home. Soldiers were already out and about. Vans lined the streets as crying children were led away from crying parents, loaded up like cattle for the slaughterhouse. Suddenly she felt angry but the fear still outweighed that particular emotion and she sprinted even faster down the city streets, weaving around people and cars. She slowed for a moment, struggling for her keys to unlock their front door until she looked up to see it was already open.

"Prompto!" She screamed through gasping breaths, dashing inside and throwing open the bedroom door. The bed was empty, his little red blanket hanging off of it.

"No. No, no, no, no, no! Prompto! Prompto!" She wailed, tearing apart the house hoping to find him playing a game and hiding somewhere. He never usually was up this early but she wouldn't stop until she was sure. He wasn't there. Prompto was gone. Sinking to her knees she began to wail loudly. There was nothing she could do to get him back. It was an order from the Emperor. Still she had to try. Standing on shaking legs and willing away her tears she returned outside, scanning the one lane street for the van her son would've been loaded into. A cluster of soldiers, real ones not robots, stood a quarter mile down the way already.

"Please, my son. Prompto, he's all I have. Give him back," she started as soon as she had made her way towards them. A few of the soldiers turned, holding heavy rifles in their hands, and studied the woman. "You have to give him back."

"Ma-am, return to your home. Orders are all firstborns, no exceptions."

"No, you don't understand. He's not fit for the army. He's such a sweet boy. Please, please you can't take him. I won't tell anyone. Please, just give me back my baby."

"Ma-am I won't tell you again. Return to your home immediately. This is not negotiable."

"No, no, no please. Please. Please, give him back. Give him back!" She was hysterical now, even more so as two of the soldiers aimed their rifles at her. She clawed desperately at the closest one, trying to push past them to the van.

"Grab her, she's being detained," One of the soldiers ordered flatly, shoving the woman to the ground and carrying on. She was lifted up by each arm; now flailing and kicking wildly at them. People stopped to stare, only to be shooed away by the cluster of armed soldiers. She was tossed haphazardly into another van alone where she continued to sob uncontrollably.

"Prompto… my baby. Where's my baby. Give me my baby!"

Meanwhile in one of the vans, little Prompto sat huddled in the corner of the dark space. Even if the soldiers were supposed to protect them, the guns still made him wary and leaving his home behind wasn't high on his list of adventures he wanted to embark on for the day. Besides, wouldn't his mother be worried sick if he wasn't home? He sniffled, fat tears streaming down his cheeks not unlike the dozen or so of other children in the vehicle with him. Faintly he could've sworn he heard her voice but perhaps it was only wishful thinking. Ducking his face down into his arms crossed over his knees that he now pulled to his chest, Prompto continued to cry.

* * *

I'm not 100% sure where I'm going with this but here's a prologue/possible one-shot. My intention is to have a full blown story but I make no guarantees. Life's busy. There won't be another update until after Christmas; I'll be traveling.


	2. Chapter 2

By Jet Set Yoyo

Disclaimer: FYI I don't own shit. ;3

Summary: "It's nice to not have to kill anything." Those words meant more to Prompto than the others could have ever known. Heavy spoilers.

MT's were created using the essence of Daemons; robots imbued with the bloody-thirsty energy of the damned but with all the predictability of a controllable object. It was evident that this alone was not enough to bring Niflheim to victory against the Lucians and so Verstael went back to the drawing board. A new idea arises and it is soon put into effect that all firstborn children from every family would be drafted into the Magitek army. This was an understatement to say the least but neither Verstael nor Iedolas wanted to alarm the masses lest they grow a desire to revolt. Hundreds of children were rounded up all varying ages for experimentation.

* * *

Prompto felt the rumble of the van's engine start. His whole body jolted as they pulled away from the curb; many of the other children were jostled in their positions as well. They were still crying but it had mostly died down into quiet sobs and hiccups save for the last few that had just been loaded in. The little blond thought about trying to bolt out the door when they had opened it that last time. It was a strong urge but one of the other boys tried first and received the butt end of one of the soldiers' guns right in his nose. A thick trickle of blood ran down his face and it just barely was starting to dry up. More blood coated the boys' sleeves from when he desperately tried to wipe it away. He had given up and curled into himself tightly in the front of the van; furthest from the doors just like Prompto.

"Hey, did they hurt you too?" The boy spoke up after a few minutes, poking Prompto in the side and causing him to peek up from his arms that had been hiding his face.

"No, I'm ok," Prompto replied sniffling, scrutinizing the fresh blood. It looked like it hurt. The other boy was older than him but in that moment he looked just as small and frightened as the rest of them. Prompto added, "I'm sorry they hit you. I thought the soldiers were supposed to keeping us safe from the Lucians. Why would they hit you? Does it still hurt?"

The boy looked thoughtful for a moment, a frown crossing his lips as he continued, "I dunno. Did you hear the announcement this morning? Emperor Iedolas wants to train us to help fight the Lucians. I miss my Dad and my sister. I wanna help beat the Lucians but I wish I could still live at home. Maybe if we beat them quick, we can go home soon?"

"But-"

"Oh hey what's your name? I'm Novum."

"Oh. Um, I'm Prompto," Prompto grinned toothily, he was missing a front tooth despite being a little young. He shifted his weight slightly; his backside was quickly going numb from sitting and the vibrations of the vehicle. Then he tried to speak again, "But I don't want to fight the Lucians though. I don't want to fight anybody. I just want to play and see my Mama and ride a chocobo."

Novum laughed loudly, throwing his head of reddish blond hair out of his green eyes. Prompto looked momentarily confused before also being sent into fits of giggles. A few other children peered their way, many confused and others felt the infectiousness of the laughter and giggled as well; to what, they probably weren't sure. The enjoyment was short lived; the van came to a halt tumbling the cargo of a dozen frightened children back into the reality of their situation.

"Think we'll be ok?" Prompto squeaked, suddenly having difficulty finding his voice.

"Guess we'll find out," gulped Novum his eyes fixated on the doors.

"Out, let's go. Quickly, we don't have all day. Single file line, no talking," barked the soldier that opened the doors. His voice was gruff and deep; Prompto decided he didn't like him as he found his way into the middle of the line just after Novum.

The blond followed the line, struggling to keep up with Novum's strides but desperate not to be singled out for his inability to follow directions. He found himself short of breath before long and silently wished the older boy would slow down. Approaching the large ominous building, the tiny blond jogged through the doors and into the brightly lit hallways. He found himself squinting to adjust his vision. "Five hundred and twenty-seven." One of the soldiers said as he passed leaving the child to wonder as he continued on, trying to keep up with the line. Thankfully they began to slow before trickling to a stop. Ahead he could see it was winding through a doorway and into a room.

"You walk too fast," the four-year-old grumbled in a whisper now stationed right behind his newfound friend.

"You're just short," came the light-hearted reply. Prompto could hear the grin in his shaking voice but Novum didn't turn around. He didn't find it entirely funny but before he could voice his displeasure once more a pair of soldiers approached. Their footsteps clanked heavily on the metal floor and the guns in their hands sent a shiver down both boys' necks. The soldiers kept walking and both boys let go of the breath they had been holding in.

Minutes felt like hours as they waited, moving forward slowly as each child at the front disappeared into the room in intervals of five minutes or so. Prompto had little perception of time as it was so for all he knew it really could have been hours. He was getting antsy, finding it difficult to stand still in the minutes that they waited. The longer they waited and the closer they got to the room the more the little boy felt a welt of dread growing in the pit of his stomach. He wanted his mother now. He wanted to go home. Fresh tears streamed down his cheeks and he fiddled with the hem of his pajama shirt nervously. They were at the front now, Novum was next. His arms were by his side but the older boy signaled him with a thumbs-up before being sent into the room. This was it. Prompto gulped, suddenly feeling like he needed the bathroom. It was too late, the door opened and he willed his feet to move despite feeling like someone had glued them to the floor.

Inside were a dozen or so men and women seated beside their own contraption Prompto couldn't even name if he tried. It wasn't outlandishly big but certainly much taller than any of the children there even without being mounted on a table. Each person had a child seated beside them and were using the machine on their wrists. Standing dumbly in the middle of the room, one of the women finally came and led him to a free chair.

"What are you going to do to me," he breathed. His voice was barely a whisper and the woman smiled gently at him, rolling up the right sleeve of his shirt with care.

"It'll be over before you know it, just try to sit still."

That didn't answer his question but the sudden searing pain in his wrist did. He tried to fight the urge to jerk his hand away. He tried to listen to the nice lady's instructions but it hurt so much. She grabbed his arm as he squirmed and latched it into the restraint on the chair, preventing his escape. Watching the machine print a bar code into his wrist, he sobbed as his tears fell harder. Meanwhile the woman wiped his upper arm with a cold swab of antiseptic and he felt a quick pinch his eyes darting to his arm. Immediately he went pale and expelled what was left of last nights' dinner onto the floor just from looking at the thickness of the needle. Prompto hated needles almost as much as he hated bugs.

"It's over, you're ok. Come now, get up and follow the others out that way. Dry your tears, don't cry any more here. It will make everything easier for you," the woman told him gently unlatching his arm from the restraints. The sound of her voice was much kinder compared to the soldiers but that didn't make anything easier. How could he possibly stop crying? Still sniffling, he nodded and walked rigidly out the door on the opposite side of the room he entered from nursing his arm.

Novum was ahead and it was only a slight relief to the young child that he hadn't lost track of his only friend here. The older boy was holding his own arm. In fact all of the other children were. He guessed they all had shots and those pictures put on their wrists too. A few others were crying too, some more loudly than himself. It gave him a small sense of triumph; that he was just a little bit braver than the other kids.

"There you are," Novum piped up glancing over at him as he joined the line of kids. Novum wasn't crying but then again he was a bigger boy, he seemed much braver than Prompto was. "What number did they give you?"

"I dunno," Prompto mumbled, too tired and miserable to be curious. Cast downwards, his blue eyes were puffy and red-rimmed. His entire demeanor screamed defeat and Novum didn't fail to notice. The strawberry blond peered down at the other boys' wrist.

"Five, twenty-seven huh. I'm five twenty-six. Guess that guy really was counting us as we came in. Hang in there Prompto, it's got to be over soon," Novum continued, rubbing his own wrist before wincing at the shot of pain it sent up his arm. Prompto didn't budge or reply so Novum added, "Maybe we'll get to see where they make those robot soldiers. Or some lunch, I'm starving. You hungry?"

Novum's attempts to distract the younger boy weren't exactly working. Prompto seemed to shrink into himself more, hanging his head dejectedly and completely ignoring the attempts of a conversation from the older male. The line passed a line of tables in the hall covered with various sizes of clothing; all the same dingy grey. One of the men at the table took a look at him before handing him a small shirt and pants. Down the line further he was handed a little pair of grey boots. Defeat turned to panic; Prompto didn't tell anyone he didn't know how to tie his shoes yet. Mama always did it for him. Would someone help him here? He was too afraid to ask the man at the table, the lump in his throat seemed too big to allow his voice through. They entered another room where everyone was changing all together.

"Take off your clothes and shoes. You can keep your underwear. Put on your new ones and throw the old ones into the chute," bellowed one of the soldiers and Prompto scrambled to obey.

Stripping himself of his beloved chocobo-print pajamas and his sneakers, he pulled the grey t-shirt over his head and struggled to find the arm holes. He had to sit down to get the pants on, still not balanced enough to pull them on standing like the older kids. Then he got to the boots and paled; he couldn't tie them. "Novum, I can't tie my shoes." He whispered desperately, tugging at the older boy's shirt. Novum shot him a small smile, having just finished tying his own and bent down to help the younger boy.

"It's easy y'know. Just make two chocobo wings then cross them over. Pull one through the loop and pull it tight. If you want to make it extra tight, do it again one more time." Prompto blinked, feeling stupid that it was so easy and he couldn't do it. Maybe when he got the chance he would practice by himself. Mama always made it look easy too and still he couldn't get it right.

"You two, move it!"

Darting from the room, the duo tossed their old clothing into the dark chute in the wall. The line was quickly moving along another hallway and up two flights of stairs. The scenery was blurry; their constant movement not allowing much observation of their surroundings. More soldiers lined the hallway and the pair noticed up ahead it split off into three different ways; each child was being sent a different direction. Once they made it to the front of the line, Novum was sent down the middle hall and Prompto to the left. Before being shoved away, the four-year old stared after his friend.

"Get going brat."

Yet another room awaited him at the end of this hall but this time it was lined with beds. By no means was the place inviting but compared to the rest of the building this seemed as homey as it would get. There were so many beds that there was barely enough room on the sides to get in and out of them. He might've counted them, if he could count that high. A small table was all that was between each of them and on it was only a clock which the small boy couldn't read. He knew the numbers but what they meant was beyond him. It was like the one his mother had that woke her up sometimes with a loud beeping.

No one was leaving this room now. Each of the other kids that went down that particular hall seemed to have already claimed a bed. Most sat down unsure of what to do with themselves. Others inspected their new tattoos or poked gingerly at the injection site just below the shoulder. There were no soldiers here barking orders or waving their guns; only bleary eyed children lost in confusion and despair. Prompto trudged over to the nearest bed and plopped down on it curling himself in the fetal position. He was still sniffling but his tears had stopped falling. Everything was happening so quickly that now everything had stopped moving he felt the gravity of his situation even more. It wasn't something he entirely understood but he knew for a fact his missed his mother. The adrenaline was wearing off now and he found himself drifting to sleep; his eyes suddenly too heavy to keep open. The young boy found himself dreaming of his mother.

* * *

I really, really had the intentions of using Nova as Prompto's new little friend but EVERYONE AND THEIR MONKEYS UNCLE keeps using Nova for their OC's. –angry face- Novum it is, which is hilarious because it means new thing and he is a new little thing. I thought him up on the spot.  
1/2/17 - I've given this chapter a quick do-over. Certain things made less sense when I re-read them and this chapter was bothering me too much to move on without fixing it. Chapter 3 is coming soon.


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